Category: Writing
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There was something almost unbearably eternal
about last night, as I walked to the Metro, and I heard a reedy and mostly off-key rendition of The Beatles’ Eight Days a Week being played on the recorder. I can’t tell you much about the musician. I chose to listen rather than look. But I know that he was shabbily dressed and tall,…
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When you look at the faces on your morning commute
Some days everyone looks like someone else you know and some days nobody looks like anyone and some days each person looks exactly like themselves.
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Monday Metro
The station is hushed as a church full of dragons. Reverently, the faithful walk and stand to left and right, Awaiting the communion of blue or yellow line. Prayerfully, they gaze into their sacred iPhones, iPads, Kindles, Swaying with united grace as the dragon-train Performs its lightless ritual of haste.
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A word on world-building
Can I come clean on something? I unabashedly read over people’s shoulders on the Metro. If I am within five feet of you, and can see your screen or page, I’m not just glancing at the title, I’m waiting for you to turn the page so I can find out what happens next to Captain…
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More goodness from Doug TenNapel
From the opening lines of his webcomic, Ratfist: “It’s true that marriage is just an antiquated institution, serving no purpose but to temper a man, provide emotional security for a woman, and perpetuating civilization with a stable family structure, but…” Doug. You’re the man. Let’s hang out.